Novel & Cerita A Clock Without Hands

"Well, well, well," He said, his voice low with a hint of both playfulness and danger in it. I know I am caught like a deer in the headlight but still I did not came out, holding onto a little hope that is crushed long ago. "What do we have here?" His voice was demanding and threatening, forcing my feets to move on their own to come out of the shadows. -- Kirill Volkov, is a 25 years old russian heartthrob with many dark little secrets. His hands are stained with the blood of people whoever discovered his little secret and he never batted another glance to the lifeless bodies he left behind. He is the perfect definition of an emotionless, quiet, arrogant and an inhumane human. Aleeza Aria Russo, is a 23 year old elegant Italian beauty with the dreams of living a life that have nothing to do with her previous one. She wants to taste the freedom in her mouth, not only on the tip of her tongue. But she did not realised she was loosing everything she always wanted while she got involved with Kirill, without even knowing the truth he hides. Aleeza does not realise the pressure and betrayal, Kirill, is going to crush her with, which will leave her with nothing but scars. Happy Reading!

Grant, the heir to the Bennett family, had been my protector for over a decade. He taught me how to fire my first shot and saved me from every attempt on my life. After someone slipped drugs into Grant's drink at the family gathering, he stumbled into my room, and his icy control shattered. His hands found my waist as he pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered my name. A single night of drugged passion left me pregnant with his child. When my twin sister, Claire, found out, she left a note and disappeared, heartbroken. After that, I was cast as the cold-hearted villain who drove her own sister away. Grant personally forced the contraceptive potion down my throat and exiled me to the lawless territories beyond our family's control. To make me atone, he abandoned me to fend for myself in that desolate land. I was eventually killed in the crossfire of a mob war. As I lay dying, my mind was flooded with memories of Grant. The troublemaker he always called me was finally gone. He must have been relieved. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to the morning after that disastrous night. This time, without hesitation, I drank the contraceptive potion myself.

On the day I was trying out my wedding gown, a stranger dashed into the VIP room and pushed me hard onto the ground. "I'm the real Mrs. John Curtis. Someone like you, with no money or a strong family behind you, should serve me instead." She looked down on me before kicking my pregnant belly with her sharp heels. The pain blurred my vision and made me break out in a cold sweat. Jolene Nostra crouched next to me and slapped me with the back of her hand. "You were only a jilted lover without wealth or influence, trying to wed into a rich family by getting pregnant." As blood flowed heavily from between my legs, a realization hit me. My fiancé, the person I'd been with for four years, was seeing another woman. "What's this? How dare you give me that look? I could kill you, and nothing would happen to me because I'm Mrs. John Curtis!" As she lunged towards me, I pulled out my phone with trembling hands to call my brother. "Come get me, Anthony. And tell our guys I want the Curtis family gone from South City."

Yesha Elaine Valdez has always lived a life dictated by survival—quiet sacrifices, buried dreams, and nights filled with desperate wishes for something more. She never expected those wishes to be heard. And she never expected them to be answered. On a storm-drenched night, a mysterious contract finds its way into her hands—one she doesn’t remember signing… but bears her name in ink darker than black. Before she can make sense of it, he appears. A man cloaked in shadows. Beautiful. Dangerous. Inhuman. He knows her fears. Her desires. Her secrets. And worst of all— He claims her. Bound by a deal she never knowingly made, Yesha is pulled into a world where power comes with a price, and freedom is an illusion. The man who calls himself her collector is no ordinary being—he is something far older, far darker… a devil who does not ask. He takes. As Yesha struggles to break free from the chains of a contract that binds her soul, she finds herself drawn to the very creature she should fear. Because beneath his cruelty lies something fractured… something that looks dangerously close to longing. But loving the devil is never without consequence. And in a game where souls are currency, Yesha may discover too late— Some contracts were never meant to be broken.

Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️‼️‼️ This is an EROTICA Collection, 18+ only. Do not read if you're below that age. --- "You’re so warm,” he muttered, his hands gripping my waist as I began to move. A shudder ran through me as the rhythm built, my fingers clutching his shoulders for support while I rocked forward and back. “Fucking hell… you’re so good,” he groaned, pulling me closer. I leaned forward slightly, my hands resting beside his neck as I held onto him. “You like that?” I asked softly, my voice shaky. “You know I do,” he replied with a smirk. I moved again, slowly finding a rhythm, my breathing growing heavier with each movement. His hands tightened around my waist as the tension between us grew stronger. “We’re just getting started,” he whispered in my ear.

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

Reign Abbot is a reporter, who is trying to navigate through life while in a toxic work environment with Bethany, who seemed hellbent on making life miserable for her. Driven by ambition and the overwhelming urge to surpass Bethany, she covers a story on the billionaire, CEO, Ivan Hamilton without further verification. The news was later debunked, however Ivan's reputation had already hit rock bottom. All hell breaks loose as Ivan is hellbent on having her pay the price for her actions. ******************************************************** “ Why? ” he smirked. “ Do you feel wrong? You think it's unfair? ” I felt tears fill my eyes at his words. I hated how easy it was for me to cry. If I was sad, I would cry. Angry? Cry. Happy? Cry. Overwhelmed? Cry. And I had never hated it as much as I did in that moment, especially when my oppressor looked delighted at the sight of my tears. I hate this man. “ What do you want me to do? ” I asked, admitting defeat. There was no need to hold on to hope that was not there. Ivan was not a nice man and it was my mistake for thinking otherwise. “ Good, that's what I want to hear. ” he said, standing up and burying his hands in his pocket.

Danger Truth Betrayal An uncovering of secrets ~~~~~ "You know we shouldn't be doing this " "Shhhh. It will be a shame if I let a goddess slip away from me" "It's dangerous" I persisted. "Oh darling" He chuckled mischievously "We run far back with danger." should be worried. I should be scared. I shouldn't act as if I am not fazed after finding out the real truth about my family. Like i didn't just find out I was a mistake. A one night stand so to say. But here I stood, clad in my black warrior clothes. My jaw was set in determination, my heart hammering wildly behind my ribcage as I glared at the monster. The monster who caused us so much pain. "Hear me now, you will die by my hands even if it's the last thing I do" with that, I lunged myself fullforce into the battle, my eyes zeroed on her neck. I would fight for my family, my kingdom and most of all for the man I love. Because what is a life without love anyway? I roared angrily as I landed a punch on her face. Ditto It has begun, and I would fight like the goddess I was born to be.

It was my twentieth birthday. My father presented me with the photos of many rich heiresses across the nation. He wanted me to pick the one to have a political marriage with. I told him I wanted to leave that in the hands of fate. Why? In my previous life, I picked Rachel Osborne, an heiress from Shampton. And I did that without hesitation. After we got married, I found out her true love, Zacharias Newman, had gotten himself drunk at a bar. The reason? He was heartbroken that we got married. And while he was drunk, a robber mugged him and cut off his hand's tendons. He tried to kill himself three times, and who did my wife blame? Me. She extracted my family's assets and gave them all to her beloved. My family was left as an empty husk. And she let him cut our brake lines. Thanks to him, my family and I died in a horrifying car crash. This was my second life. This time, I chose Seraphina Oliviera, an heiress from Fortunopolis. She was someone who couldn't care less about worldly matters and was a God-fearing woman. Eventually, I showed up at the engagement with Seraphina, but that apparently drove Rachel mad.

The impoverished student I had sponsored, Jacob Murphy, had accumulated a massive gambling debt. When the debt collectors had kicked the door open, my childhood sweetheart, Renee Austin, had shoved me forward instead. Her voice was cold and distant. “He’s Jacob Murphy. Take him away.” In the darkness of an underground casino, they tore out my fingernails, then smashed my ribs one by one with an iron rod. When the searing pain arrived, I groveled on the floor like a dog. I was weeping and screaming, without a shred of dignity. Then, they “mercifully” gave me one chance to call for help. Clinging to the last sliver of hope, I called Renee. Her voice on the other end sounded very cruel. “If you hadn’t set him up, how would Jacob have ended up buried in gambling debt? Even if you die at their hands, you deserve it.” The dial tone after she hung up became the last sound in my world. Later, I really did die, just as she had said. However, there was not the slightest trace of a smile on Renee’s face. It was as if she had gone mad. Her eyes were bloodshot as she searched every underground gambling den in the city. ‘Renee, why were you crying for me?’ I wondered.